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// Breaking harmony 1 
// Story: The Hag, the heroes, and a few other things 
// by Amaranthine Thought 
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The summer in my homeland was not like the summer elsewhere.  There, in the frozen wastes that my people called home, summer was when they might go outside without fear of freezing to death.  Summer was when the sun sent some life giving warmth, granting my people an opportunity to travel into the woods, to hunt and gather in those rare times when it was safe to go outside.  Summer was not a happy time.

Of course, winter was much worse, where the snow would often bury houses in a smothering blanket.  When the air could freeze exposed skin in moments.  When the beasts left the woods to feast upon frozen livestock or any that found themselves outside when the packs hunted.

So the people who lived in those inhospitable conditions lived for the summer, when it was possible that one might not be frozen or eaten for daring to walk outside.

I lived within a valley between two peaks, my humble abode set upon the side of the taller mount, deep within the pine forest that covered the mountain’s side and base.  A village was just past the forest’s borders down below, a town shaped by an easier life than their neighbors just past the hills.  

The woods I lived in were deadly, filled with monster, beast, and fey.  Things that were purely elemental, and the fey would happily make anyone who came near them disappear.  Playing with the fairies.  Normally, my valley would be without any people, but the town below my home was large and safe.

Their presence was only possible because of my influence.  You see, I am a hag, and a very good one.  A hag is… a kind of go-between.  They place themselves between mankind and the wilds.  We commune with the woods and the spirits in the woods, softening them so that our people can live in these lands without the fear of death looming over them.  Or we can make it worse, it depends on the hag.  A hag’s power comes from the woods and spirits, and we had great power when we were within or near a wood.

Spirits are… beings.  They do not have a physical form, and they are manifestations of nature.  They have great power, and most spirits hold a great hate for mankind.  They would bend the wind and call the snow and send the beasts in the wood to slay the people, if not for a hag’s intercession.  The beasts in the woods repelled by their presence, the fey appeased and quieted through their sacrifice.

Hags did not have a good reputation despite those protections, and for good reasons.  Our gifts come at a high price.  Our talents can save your family, your village, but only at the cost of something dear, like a memento, or an heirloom… or a child.  

Hags go beyond mere mortals, becoming like the spirits of the woods, or the fey that haunt the deepest forests.  Something to be feared, and avoided under all but the most desperate of circumstances.  Our prices are absolute, and are not set by us, but by The Order, the laws by which even the greatest of spirits were bound by.

I once, in my foolish youth, tried to reduce the price.  It was by the rarest chance that my actions did not claim my life, but now I was better than any hag due to my… deal.  Uwe, the great spirit of beyond, saved me from death and in exchange for his favor I gave my fate to him.  He would be the one to set my death, but I could protect my people and help them beyond even the greatest of hags with his patronage.

Not that my people ever knew this, only knowing me as their hag.  I never tried to dispel the natural fear that the villagers below my home felt toward me, but over time they warmed to my presence.  Some of the smarter ones even realized that my ‘deals’ were better than any other hag, though they never knew why.

It was after living a long life and seeing all that men had to offer that I made my choice.  I decided to help them as best as I could.  In my valley even the depths of winter did not hold much terror for my people, for I calmed the winds that would have frozen them and reduced the snowfall to only heavy levels.  I kept the beasts from terrorizing my people, and they flourished from my efforts.  They never knew my works, but I did not care.  I acted for my satisfaction, not for their praises.

And now I am old.  My age is… not important, though I certainly looked like an old hag.  I was bony, hunched despite my efforts to the contrary, my pale skin wrinkled and hanging, spots discoloring it along the left of my face.  My hair was an ethereal white, faint and thin upon my balding head.  My teeth, those that I still had, were yellow and one was crooked.  

My dress was leather, with a faded green cotton over the tough material.  I always kept most of myself covered, the dress falling to my ankles and rising to my neck in a single block, not a curve to be seen.  It was old and torn along the bottom, my hood just as ragged and grey due to age and use.  I kept this appearance willingly; it gave me a… role of sorts.

At first, I was feared, like any other hag.  Then, slowly, that fear faded, for I never demanded anything, and those that came for aid left feeling happy for they did not pay the prices they expected.  After a time, I would even get some of the members of the village visiting me just for the purpose of visiting me.

I became their hag, and they trusted in me to keep them safe.  They even trusted me enough to leave their children in my care so that they might work.

The children of the village called me elder when they were older, grandmother when they weren’t.  They would come to see me so often that there was a visible trail to my home leading through the snowy woods.  

It was always the same; the eldest coming with confidence to ask me to tell them a tale, or to give them some form of sweet, the youngest hiding behind the nearby pines, peering out from behind the trunks.  It always made me chuckle to see their nervousness and innocence.

And sometimes, very rarely, a girl would stay behind when the others left.  They always had the same question: can you teach me to be a hag?

I had never taken an apprentice.  Becoming a hag required a fire in the soul that can’t be dampened, a will of iron that can’t be bent, and a stomach to lose any inhibitions.  The girls never held all three, though some did have one or two of the required traits.  It is not enough to have some.  I always shooed them off, or I would scare them with simple illusions and tricks, laughing as they ran back to the village as though a bear was chasing them.  It was for the best really.

It was growing late that day as I finished telling a tale to the collected children that sat about my fire.  I was sitting on my stump, the children on the grass around me, my empty cauldron hanging over the fire that allowed us to sit in warmth.  I knew endless tales of adventure, and some of them even ended happily.  The children never cared, their ears always wanting more of any kind of story, so long as it sprang from my lips.

I finished the tale (the hero got ate by the dragon) and stood up slowly and painfully (my bones and joints ached when I moved them).  I pulled my hood back over my head, the surrounding youth either standing with me, or whining that they desired more.

“It grows late children.” I said, my voice crackling and dry, “You need to go now before the owls wake.”

“But…” it varied from there, but the meaning was the same.

I began shooing them away, smiling.  “Go!  Get!  Unless you want the fairies to take you!”  I watched them go, giggling at my words, my heart warmed by their ignorance.  The fairies would take them if they went in the dark, but they were unaware of the danger.  A strong sign that I was doing my job well.

I turned back to my home but stopped upon seeing three young girls waiting for me.  I suspected that they had dared one another.  I already knew what they wanted to ask.

I lowered my head and sighed, “You three want to be hags?”  They all nodded, wringing their hands in nervousness.

I did not even bother to look; no other had possessed the requirements, why would these three?

I pushed my hood back, keeping my head down.  I took a deep breath and focused.  A sudden wind kicked up, swirling around the clearing, my hair raising on its own accord, individual stands writhing in the air.  My skin whitened and I glowed with a soft white light as I lifted off the ground a few inches.  My eyes lit, one green and the other blue (nature and spirits, I always liked that) as I snapped my head up to look at them, my mouth suddenly filled with dagger-like teeth as I smiled.

This took place in a single moment, and I stood back in my normal form in less time than it would take to turn around.  To my shock, only two of them ran screeching down the worn trail.  Despite her terror, the third stood before me still, her head bowed low as she trembled in place.

I didn’t know what to think for a moment before I looked at her.  Really looked.  Hags had the sight to see souls; it helped when dealing with the spirits.  With my sight I could see into her soul, her essence, and it glowed with every requirement, and a fire burned within that would make her a great hag.  She had talent to put my own to shame.  I was speechless for a few moments, both that I had nearly wasted her talent with my foolish scare, and that I had finally found a capable apprentice after decades of losing hope.

I had thought I would die before I found someone to take up my shawl.

I collected myself before I responded.  I did have to maintain an illusion of certainty in my actions after all.

“Very good.” I said.  “You passed.” I lied.

Her head snapped up, her eyes lighting with hope.

“Really?!” she squealed, “You’ll teach me grandmother?  I can become like you?”

I nodded and she jumped in happiness, making me chuckle at her youth.  “But not today my child.  Go back to your home and settle your affairs.  Being a hag requires sacrifice, and the first is family.  Say your goodbyes and return, if you can bring yourself to.”

“I shall!” she called back as she ran back to the village below.

“And bring a gift!” I yelled after her, straining my voice to be heard, “They like gifts!”  My ears failed to pick up her reply, but I smiled anyway as I went to my home.

I do not live in luxury; my hut is slumped with age and the thatch roof is covered in snow.  It’s only two rooms, both just large enough to accommodate three men if they pressed together.  The floor and door creaked as I entered, and I lit my covered lantern with a snap of my fingers.  The light illuminated the overcrowded inside.

Shelves line the walls and every last one is filled to overflowing with vials, regents, herbs, the bones of animals, and more.  I often use everything that can be found in my hut, but some I keep for sentimental reasons, like a small chest of jewelry, or the skull that sat in a place where it could see most of the room.  A small table and chair sit to the side, the table covered by mortal and pestles, tiny piles of glittering dust, and several butterfly wings.  My room is just beyond, containing my bed and another table.  My diaries lay on the table.  Three of them filled with my spidery writing and the fourth growing full.

I spent a moment to gather the dust into a mortar before continuing into my bed.  I sighed as my lantern doused itself and relaxed, deciding to go to bed far earlier than I normally did (normally I would stay up all night and sleep as the sun rose).  

I felt as if a great weight had been taken from me.  I had found someone to take my place and I might live out the last days of my life in peace.  Maybe I could have even gone and lived in the village itself after a few years.  I was soon sleeping like a log, dreaming of teaching the girl and leaving this land in good hands. 

I always wonder if I might have done something else, if I could have prevented or even reduced…  But it is of no matter now.  The past is set, and all the strength and wisdom of the world cannot change it.





I stirred in my sleep as the forest called to me.  I jolted awake as it screamed my name, and I climbed from my bed in a moment.  It had only been two hours since I laid down.

That is not to say that the woods were somehow vocalizing their call so that anyone could hear it.  As a hag, I could hear the sounds of the spirits and the forest.  Any might hear the words of a spirit if they listen, but the voice of a forest could only be heard by a trained hag.  The forest might have one or many voices, the larger the forest the more numerous the voices.  They did not sound like normal voices.  Their words are… understood, more than they are heard.

They were telling me of fire, invaders, and death down in the town below.  They had been trying to wake me for an hour and my blood chilled.  An hour is a long time, and I dreaded what I might find.

I threw my shawl over my shoulders and grabbed my lantern as I exited into the cold night.  I hurried through the woods, noticing the lack of the normal creatures that prowled my woods during the night.  Their absence was not a good sign and I forced my legs faster, wishing that I could fly to the village and cursing my aching bones that prevented me from moving faster.

I stopped when I came upon the village.  Fire rose from the town in great flames that roared into the air, black smoke choking the dark sky.  The men lay in the snow, cut down, their blood staining the white beneath them.  I stepped forward slowly, taking care not to step upon the bodies.  

The town was filled with dead, the flames carrying the unmistakable scent of burning bodies and the heat was uncomfortable even with the cold wind.  Old, young, women, men, babes… not one was left alive, littering the streets and staining the white snow red.  I slowly walked, not really feeling anything as I saw dead bodies in the street and dead bodies burning in the ruins of their homes.

I wondered as I crept along, what had done this?  A creature of the wood might slaughter the village to the last, but every last one feared fire.  Men often raided one another, for food, slaves, or wives, but no raider or conqueror would slay every last soul.  Then I saw a sight that caused me to stop and my frozen hopes to shatter.

The same girl from before, the one that had shown such promise.  She clutched at two dead children, possibly her siblings, all three huddled together even in death.  She had tried to protect them even as she had been run through.  

I felt old.  I felt like death had passed over me, and for a moment I wondered what I had worked for all those years.

I had failed them all.  They were dead and it was my fault.  My life was nearing its end and right then there was no real reason for me to continue living.  I had built my life around the town, and now it was gone, lost in a single night.  My light died, but a dark fire lit within me as I continued looking to the dead girl.

It filled me, and I only thought of one thing then: revenge.  I would make their killers suffer, torment them like no man should be.  I pulled myself from the depression with the darkness, holding onto the red hot hate that I felt.  Vengeance would be mine.

Then I would go to my hut and die.  Hate can keep a man going far past his limits, but it burns the soul, destroying the humanity within and making one a monster.  I was willing to be that monster then; at least until I had had my fill of vengeance.  Then I would go to my home and lie down and never wake again.

I heard voices and followed them with a dark glint in my eye.  I found some men.  Men in black armor that covered them head to toe.  They celebrated amidst the dead and flames, recalling favorite parts of the battle which often included killing the women as they ran, laughing as they cut down screaming children.  They were covered in dark magic.  Dark forces imbued their armor and I snarled at the sight.  

Dark magic was unnatural, only fit for destruction, and no hag or shaman (male hags, at least somewhat) would permit the practice so long as they breathed.  I didn’t know where they had gotten the stuff, but I didn’t care.  I needed to find their leader; he would have the worst of my wrath first.  His men would run in fear and I would hunt them down like the rabid dogs they were.

They saw me soon.  “What this!?  We musta missed one boys!”

They taunted one another in jest as I approached.  They stopped dead as I came close, my glowing eyes boring into their own; one blue, and the other green, both with hints of red.

“Move.” I said, my tone unnaturally deep.  They scattered, several running into the town to escape as I continued past them uncaring, looking for their leader.

I spotted him at last, his armor more decorated than his men and such amounts of dark magic suffusing his form that the firelight dimmed near him.  He saw me and came to me, a swagger in his step and arrogance in his stance.

“The village hag come to her people’s aid?  You are a little late, witch.” He spat on the ground, “They are all dead, look around you!”  He gestured with his arms to the destruction that surrounded us, “Too late!  Too little too late!”

He noticed my snarling face and chuckled.  “A worthless hound bares her missing teeth?  You hold no more sway over me, woman.  You are old and weak, your body failing with each passing moment.  And do not claim mastery over nature or magic.  I know that every last one of your kind only claims great power.  You have no magic beyond what you can convince others you possess.”

“But you can always try to convince me…” his voice leered as he drew his sword, the blade practically glowing with dark magic.

I was enraged beyond words, beyond thought.  He was taunting me and I blazed with hate.  As I raised my hand and pointed at hi my only word was “Suffer.”

A slow moving mist flowed from my outstretched hand, lazily twining across the distance between us.  It glittered and glowed, shifting colors as it approached him, beautiful in appearance and graceful as it drifted.  My deadliest spell.  He was smirking, I know that he was smirking, as he lifted his sword and sliced at it.

The world was suddenly devoured in white.  I drifted in a white emptiness, floating, nothing to define anything around me.  Then the white was broken by black, the color breaking and attacking the white that surrounded me.  I couldn’t feel or hear anything as I watched the two colors war with one another, overwriting one another faster than I could register.  A fatigue came on me, sapping my strength and paining me as the shifting grew faster, and more furious.

I am not sure how long I spent unable to act, but eventually the drain proved too much and I fell unconscious.





I woke sluggishly, my spirit retaking its mortal home slowly.  I way lying on my side, resting on grass.  I struggled to full wakening, my limbs numb and unresponsive as I weakly flailed, trying to stand.  My eyes slowly opened, and I ceased moving at the sight.  I was in a forest far unlike the one I had lived in for most of my life.

No snow was present.  A warm light filtered through the treetops, and a warm breeze drifting through the treetops.  I knew that trees were usually covered in leaves, but I lived far in the north, far past where such a plant could survive and the sight was a… surprise.  Smaller plants littered the ground; bushes, creepers, and flowers that were mostly unfamiliar to my eye.

All of the plants, even the trees, were all quite colorful, and at the time I assumed that yellow and orange and red were normal colors for the place.  I now know better.  It was fall here even though I had left my own land during the early summer.

As I lay there, staring at my surroundings, I realized why I was unable to stand.  I had four legs, and no arms.  This was far from the first time I had changed my form into an animal, and it was with experience that I climbed to my… hooves I noted.  I made sure that I was looking at my feet, and not something else and then stood and looked about me.

My hut lay just behind me, slightly more slumped than normal, wet with melting snow.  My cauldron was on its side nearby.  I trotted up to my home and seized the latch in my mouth; hooves would be unable to work the latch, I knew that from experience.  It seemed I was rather small, as I had to stretch to reach the latch and the house itself seemed much larger than before.  My head only reached the top of my table as I entered.

I went with purpose to one corner and pulled a covering off of one of my precious items.  A cloudy mirror greeted me, and I took in my reflection in the ancient object.

It seemed that I was some kind of tiny, white pony, with a grey mane and tail, far thicker than my original hair.  Both shimmered in the light, as if my hair was now made of silver.  My skin was tighter, lacking most of its wrinkles, and my eyes were huge, the size of plates.  I stared at the sight for a moment in surprise.  I looked closer, noting that my eyes no longer matched; the left was an icy blue, the other a forest green.  I knew that that would be noticeable, even from a distance, with those oversized peepers.

I took a breath and called the forest, anticipating being able to return to my true form without difficulty.  ‘Calling’ was what I… erm… called it, and it could be understood that I was speaking the same way that the forest did.  It was my own talent, and most hags couldn’t mimic it.  I could even call spirits, making finding the powerful beings a far easier task.

A chill swept over me when I did not receive a response immediately.  I always got a response immediately, but I wasn’t now.  After a short while a frail and uncertain response came to me.

The forest was there, but felt… dumb, stupid, or even newborn.  It had never been spoken too before, and as I asked it for aid I was met with confusion.  It didn’t know how to help me.  It didn’t know how large it was.  It didn’t even know what dwelled within its borders and was even uncertain that it was a forest.

I took a deep breath to calm myself.  For some reason, the forest had been crippled to near death, barely able to think, much less act.  I would be stuck as a pony it seemed.  I wondered what I would do, trapped in a new shape and lost somewhere unfamiliar to me.  Then it struck me.

I would help this forest.  After all, it wasn’t like I had a people anymore, and it did need a helping hand, or hoof considering I no longer had hands.  Or maybe mouth considering hooves were near useless hand replacements.  I would either find what crippled it so and cure it, or teach it to become as it should be with my last few years of life.  

I reached further, calling for the spirits that I knew would have to dwell within this wood; it didn’t know, but it was a large forest.  I could tell and spirits loved places like this.  

I was met with an absolute silence as though any spirit that had lived here had died, and died long ago.  I was horrified; this was unnatural in every single way that I could imagine.

Imagine going into a town and not only discovering that the first person you met had the mind of a babe, but that the rest of the houses were abandoned.  My mind filled with fears, trying to explain the lack of spirits.  A dumb forest might happen, but there were always spirits and I was terrified to find what might have become of them.

What monster had done this?  I remembered every last nightmare and beast that might cause this.  If they were infesting the wood, I would not have be able to deal with them.  I needed spirits to fight them, and there were no spirits, possibly because of the nightmares I would need them to fight.  I was terrified for a moment until I felt something faint.

I sensed a spirit in the distance, and I began heading toward it, feeling hopeful that I wasn’t going to have to fight alone.  I was unfamiliar with the forest, but one wood is the same as any other.  It only took some mild effort to evade the thorns and vines and poisonous plants that flourished in the wood.  There was a good variety as well, many different possibilities for later use.

Eventually I came upon a gorge.  It dropped below me for nearly a hundred feet, barren rock save for a few hardy weeds.  Plants didn’t even drape over the side and the grass stopped a few feet from the edge.  The cliff dropped straight down and only a small set of stairs led to the basin below.  I looked at that with apprehension.  I had never gotten along with stairs when I stood upright, much less when I walked on four legs.  It was both slow and painful for me, my age you understand.

It was… less difficult than I had anticipated.  It was difficult, but not painful and as I went it became easier.  I stood at the bottom and recovered for a moment before continuing to follow my trail.  I walked into a cavern and stopped dead as the inside came into view.

A gigantic crystal tree that glowed with light sat in the back of the cave.  Six pieces of golden jewelry rested in six recesses in the branches and trunk; five necklaces that seemed to glow, each a hefty semicircle with a shaped gem in the middle and a tiara with a large star-shaped gem.  The rest of the cave glittered with smaller crystals in the walls and a few large lily pads decorated the edges in small ponds.

I walked toward the tree in awe, having never seen small crystals, much less the one before me.  It shined with beauty I had never seen something possess, not even the fey.  I walked up to it and reached out a hoof to touch it.  The moment I did so I recoiled as though it had burned me.

Had I felt that right?  I touched it again and gasped.  I had found the cause of the forest’s loss of self and the missing spirits.  Two spirits were locked within the tree’s hard shell, held in place by a strange magic.  It was not dark, but I was unable to name the stuff that bound them.

To clarify, magic comes in several forms.  There are natural forces, the same power that hags channel from the forests and spirits.  There are dark forces, destructive, evil, forces that cannot be used for any good act.  Finally, there is the arcane force.  The arcane force is the magic that denied understanding, the lighting of candles, levitation of objects and the like.  I had some grasp of that.  My illusion of a horrifying face is a good example.  That was not any of the three.

It had a pattern of sorts, tendrils of magic spreading from the center of the tree.  I followed the trails of power and noted that they clustered around the necklaces, with a lone trail leading into the surrounding forest.  As I examined the tree, I noted that it sort of felt like a spirit; one that had trapped its brethren and lived as a crystal tree, but a spirit all the same.  

That explained everything.  I was looking at an invading spirit that wanted to dominate the surrounding land, but was unable to affect anything but other spirits.  It must have overpowered the ones that were trapped in it, and then crippled the forest nearby in rage when it realized that it held no power over material objects.  

Normally, spirits that did this were covered in dark magic, but this one wasn’t.  Maybe this was some strange kind of dark magic?  That didn’t make sense, but I didn’t know it, and it did behave the same way…

I decided to break the thing’s stranglehold, but hesitated.  I was a hag, and with Uwe’s patronage, could be known as a spirit.  I would also need to combat it in the manner of a spirit which would expose me to its power.  Would that thing lash out at me if I tried to break its hold?  Would I fall under its grip like the spirits it bound?  Could I be caught by it as well?

I took the chance.  I reached out, sending my own soul into the tree, willing to bet that I could do what I set out to do.

Focusing, I grabbed at the tiny tendril holding the forest and ripped at it, shredding it under my will.  It was like cutting butter at first, the power giving way with ease.  At the last it became like glass, slicing into me as I broke the last of it and I cried out.  It had reacted too late though, and with a smile despite my pain I severed its grip.

The forest immediately reached out to me, washing away the pain and covering me in a protective layer of energy.  I looked up at the tree with a triumphant grin.

“Hurt didn’t it?  That is just the start you beast!” I taunted.  A tiredness came over me and I slumped.  It was difficult to influence spirits and could easily be dangerous to attack them, for several reasons.  It takes a lot of energy to fight them and I could easily fall dead from exhaustion with only a few moments of effort.  Or it could strike back at me; it almost had and it would be infinitely more capable than I in the attack.

I hadn’t thought of the difficulty and it had surprised me with its strength, but the forest came to my aid and bolstered me.  It didn’t even know me, but offered its help even without my needing to ask, healing me and rejuvenating my flagging strength.  I liked its sense of selflessness.  I asked the forest to get me back to my home, and didn’t think of how it might accomplish this task.

I laid down and waited.  A beast came in, a massive cat with a ruff of red fur around its head as though framing it.  It had two bat wings and an armored tail ending in a barb like a fishing hook.  It picked me up like I was a kitten, and if I hadn’t have been so tired I would have taught it respect.

It got me back to my home, covering me it its spit in the process.  It licked me with a tongue that uncomfortably pulled at my skin and coat and walked back into the woods pleased with its efforts.

“I am going to have a talk with you later.” I muttered at the forest as I dragged myself to my bed.  I could feel its confusion as I climbed in; hadn’t it gotten me here, like I had asked?

“Don’t understand… explain later…” I mumbled as I drifted off, smiling as it perked up and turned its attention elsewhere, presumably to make up for lost time.  

How long had it been bound?  How long had those spirits been bound?  I drifted to sleep with the forest eagerly getting to know itself and begin… something.  I didn’t care what it was doing anyway.  In one day I had seen the death of my village, my transport to a new place, and my fight, regardless how small, with a wicked spirit.  What could it do to merit my attention over all that?





The Everfree had awoken after such a long time dormant that none could truly recall when it had ever been awake.  While I slept the forest became active.

It woke the creatures within, shook the dust of the ages from its plants and then looked around itself.  Mostly, it was field, but there was another forest just next to one part of it.  It couldn’t feel those trees that seemed to grow in rows, and assumed that it was a part of itself.

An understandable mistake, considering it had only recently regained its senses.

So it set out to do two things, one normal for a forest, the other, less so.

First, it wished to spread and caused a faint stir when it used animals to scatter seeds a few feet beyond its borders.  That was fine and normal, if overly aggressive.

Next, it wished to reclaim the forest just beyond, and thought that if it could get things it could feel amongst things it couldn’t, then it might feel those trees as well.  The chaos it caused when it had sent its creatures into that place loaded down with seeds and saplings must have been quite the sight.

Its actions would have been fruitless anyway.  The forest beyond was an orchard, and not part of the Everfree.  The ponies managed to fend it off, and the Everfree was left puzzling why its plan didn’t work.  I later explained to it that it was not the only forest in the world, and it had to respect those boundaries.

And that is how the forest grew very concerning to the ponies outside it, and they began watching and searching for any reason as to why it was now behaving like this.